


Stuck

by SharkAria



Category: Rurouni Kenshin
Genre: Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Adventure & Romance, Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Time Travel, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Grief/Mourning, Romance, Slow Burn, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-16
Updated: 2020-12-18
Packaged: 2021-03-07 01:40:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,016
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26488825
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SharkAria/pseuds/SharkAria
Summary: Kaoru and Enishi, looped together with shared grief for their lost loved ones, embark on a desperate twilight drive to see something -- anything -- other than the home where they’ve been stuck for months.  They expect the wildfire smoke.  They don’t expect the time warp.
Relationships: Himura Kenshin & Kamiya Kaoru, Himura Kenshin/Kamiya Kaoru, Himura Kenshin/Yukishiro Tomoe, Kamiya Kaoru/Yukishiro Enishi, Yukishiro Enishi & Yukishiro Tomoe
Comments: 9
Kudos: 8





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AngelOfDeath10](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AngelOfDeath10/gifts).



> For [AngelOfDeath10](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AngelOfDeath10/pseuds/AngelOfDeath10), whose writing content, volume, and speed has inspired me for a decade! They provided the prompt for this fic: renaissance & supernatural elements.
> 
> FOR KENSHIN/KAORU FANS: I tagged this fic with K/K because it includes one-sided, unconsummated, past pining. While I have tried very hard to give Kenshin and Kaoru a very deep, supportive friendship/relationship with frequent interactions that honor their past and present, the only requited romantic pairs in this story are Kenshin/Tomoe and Enishi/Kaoru. That said, I would LOVE for you to give this fic a chance! Thank you!
> 
> Other warnings: This fic begins (but does not stay) in 2020. So uh, expect, you know, that.

First came the virus. Then the shutdown. Then Kaoru’s layoff, and eviction, and transfer of life-filled duffel bags to Enishi’s condo. Then the search for academic jobs that had suddenly evaporated. The weekly ritual of donning a mask to venture into the communal laundry room, the hour of washing her long dark hair afterward to remove possible pathogens, the afternoon phone calls to Megumi out on Enishi's little covered patio. And always, always there was the hope that all this would all be over soon.

But August brought worse news, and more cases. More breathless accounts of hospitalizations, more regional shutdowns. Record-breaking heat, blackouts, dry winds, wildfires. Suffering and death.

September delivered the karmic cherry on Kaoru’s Dystopia Sundae: day after day of suffocating smoke that compelled her and every other West Coaster to huddle indoors, with no end in sight.

“I can’t take it anymore,” Kaoru yelled over the buzz of the box fan to which she had duct-taped a MERV 13 filter so she could pretend that the indoors was still safer than the outdoors. She rose from her nest of pillows on the couch and stuck her nearly dead phone into the zipper pocket on her cheap leggings. “I have to get out of here.”

Enishi glared at her over the top of his tablet, his too-small steampunk spectacle lenses lit up from the reflection of the screen. “Everything is closed. Where will you go?” 

“I don’t care. Anywhere but here.” She grabbed Enishi’s Toyota keys from the entryway rack. “I’ll just drive up the hill a little bit and be back in half an hour.” 

Heaving a melodramatic sigh, Enishi set the tablet aside and gracefully unfolded himself from the lounge chair. He ran his fingers through his prematurely silver hair, floofing it up in a million directions, then said, “Fine, I’ll come,” as if Kaoru had invited him.

Kaoru had envisioned a solo outing, but she couldn’t complain. She hadn’t exactly asked to borrow his car. And since she had shared nearly a decade of unpleasant life experiences with him, not to mention a whole summer of agony the same nine-hundred square foot living space, both she and Enishi had long ago dispensed with formalities like “small talk” and “asking permission to share possessions” and “closing the bathroom door.” Okay, that last one was only Enishi, and fortunately it was only when he was going pee. She hoped.

Together, they exited the condo quickly. Kaoru coughed as she gulped air that tasted like a mouthful of campfire. She hoped she was inhaling ash from the nearby grass fire, and not from the one in the hills further east, where homes were burning and where some people had died. She wondered, once again, about the equivalent number of cigarettes for every breath, wondered if the local Air Quality Management District was telling the truth when they insisted that this air was merely “Unhealthy,” or if it was actually “Hazardous” like the Purple Air app reported. 

“Hurry up. Get in,” Kaoru urged as she reached the car and stuck the key fob in the ignition; then adjusted the seat to fit her much shorter height. “So much for avoiding driving on a ‘Spare the Air’ day,” she added, feeling more thrilled than guilty. 

Enishi scoffed as he mashed the “recirculate” button with his knuckle and cranked up the A/C. “If they want to ‘spare the air,’ they better get control of the oil companies spewing carbon into the atmosphere. They need to stop making excuses for the energy companies. The Benicia refineries. The goddamn ports and the waivers allowing the tankers to idle those fucking diesel generators --”

“I get it.” Kaoru found it best to cut off Enishi before he got too wound up in his ruminations. “It’s the big players who need to make sweeping changes. One Prius on the road for an hour isn’t going to stop the planet’s slide into inevitable atmospheric disaster.”

“You’re learning,” Enishi said. Finally, he didn’t say aloud, but the way he elongated his words made it obvious that he still wasn’t especially impressed with Kaoru’s understanding of the need to catalyze the Green Revolution.

Admittedly, Kaoru did not usually paid much attention to Enishi’s rants, but she had absorbed a decent amount of knowledge after months of sleeping on the futon in his home-office-slash-spare-bedroom where he operated a lean non-profit that was either a wildly successful, disruptive policy force to be reckoned with and which played an instrumental role in organizing grassroots support to pass numerous local ordinances and statewide climate crisis regulations, or an online personality cult led by a delusional eco-terrorist, depending on whether the judgment came from an alternative print weekly or AM radio. 

Kaoru pulled out of the parking lot and drove down the smog-shrouded, empty street toward the onramp. She lapsed into silence and concentrated on taking the correct turns; Enishi seemed similarly inclined to stay quiet.

As Kaoru checked her blind spot to merge onto the freeway, she glimpsed an eyeful of Enishi’s taut bicep. Her emergency roomie had been in good shape for as long as she had known him, but it was one thing to be aware of the fact that Enishi could run six-minute miles, and another to see him do shirtless crunches on the living room floor. Mostly she had tried to ignore his workout routine, just as he had given her space each afternoon to run through her yoga postures, but about a month ago she’d stared at him too blatantly while he finished a set of push-ups, and when he was done he’d wiped the sweat from his face with the back of his arm and had given her a snarky little grin, and she had smiled back and thought that something was going to happen. But then a big donor had called Enishi’s cell, and later that night the first of the wildfires had broken out, and he’d been sucked into his work day and night, and since then he had hardly spoken to her about anything except telling her to replace the wet towels in front of the door to keep the smoke from coming inside. In any case, she had grown more careful about ogling Enishi when he could catch her.

A flash of light cleaved the sky in two, followed moments later by a rumble of thunder. “More lightning,” Enishi muttered. “Great. Next up, more fucking fires.”

Kaoru peered out at the grey-black horizon. “This is like the night they --” she broke off. She hadn’t brought up the disappearance since the court declared Tomoe and Kenshin legally dead back in January; she wasn’t sure if Enishi would ever want to talk about it again. 

“That night was all mist and hail. No smoke for a thousand miles.” Enishi said flatly. “God. Tomoe and her experiments. Who knows what she would have tried to do on a night like this?” He coughed to cover the wavering in his voice. “And Kenshin would have kept enabling her crazier and crazier ideas until -- well, you know, until what happened, happened.”

“Sorry. Nevermind,” Kaoru said. There was no point to argue about it, not anymore. She punched the gas and, as usual, the hybrid vehicle responded anemically. At the overpass, the smoke grew even thicker, with visibility limited to no more than three streetlights ahead except whenever lightning periodically brightened the view.

Beside her, Enishi shifted, and the fabric of his workout pants crinkled loudly. “Not that I would have wanted to see Tomoe’s body, but it would be easier to accept her death if the investigators had found their car. Instead, I’m just -- ” he swallowed loudly. “Chasing after her. Trying to figure out what she was looking for in all that climate data.”

“Yeah. Like if you learned what she was doing, maybe you could get a part of her back. I did the same thing. Except, you know. For him.” Kaoru had never admitted it, but Enishi must have determined the real reason she had abruptly switched her doctoral thesis topic from the early twentieth century to the Italian Renaissance. It had been a real bitch to learn a whole different language in the last two years of the academic program, but she’d done it to pick up where Kenshin had left off. “The stupid thing is, if I’d stuck with my original plan to study the aftermath of the first World War, I’d be rich now. Everyone wants to talk to historians who can tell them about the 1918 flu.”

“Couldn’t you teach them about the bubonic plague or something?” Enishi asked, distracted by the lightning that crackled again, then dissipated in the haze. 

“I wish,” Kaoru grunted as she began to drive slower. “Nobody wants to hear about the history of bloodborne bacterial infections right now. Only aerosolized viruses.”

He chuckled mirthlessly. “Haven’t you heard? The plague is making a comeback.” 

“You’re such an optimist,” she laughed, then reached over and patted his shoulder, a habit she had developed when they had cracked morbid jokes and held back sobs as they sifted through the strange lab equipment and dusty, creepy old books in Kenshin’s and Tomoe’s basement. 

But instead of rolling his eyes and giving her a sad smile like he usually did, Enishi caught her hand in his. 

Kaoru glanced at Enishi’s face, then down at their entwined fingers. 

The sky lit up again, followed by a tremendous clap of thunder. Then everything went dark.

*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*

Kaoru returned to consciousness with her throat burning. With her eyes still closed, she tried to swallow, then licked her lips. Yep, everything still tasted like campfire.

There was a muffled feminine voice coming from somewhere outside of the car, if she was still in the car. “Is that -- no.”

“It’s --” stammered a man’s voice. “Yes. You did it.” 

Kaoru finally cracked open her watering eyes and hacked up a mouthful of phlegm. Enishi sat hunched over in the passenger seat beside her, with his red-rimmed eyelids open wide, but he seemed to be in shock or something, because he wouldn't respond when she croaked his name. She turned her head to see what he was looking at and observed that the Prius windshield had completely blown out, and a layer of ash now blanketed the dashboard. Beyond the hood of the car, the smoke-filled freeway Kaoru expected to see had disappeared and had been replaced by a pair of arched windows with bubbled glass filtering orange sunlight beyond the panes. 

In front of the windows stood a pair of two familiar, beloved figures: Tomoe and Kenshin.

*_*_*_*_*_*

[to be continued]


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “We’re so pleased you could join us.” 
> 
> Tomoe’s velvet voice was as calm as ever, as if three years hadn’t passed since she and Kenshin had disappeared, as if Kaoru and Enishi hadn’t just blacked out in the middle of the 405 and come to in this cobweb filled, high-ceilinged, stone-walled vault. “I look forward to explaining everything,” Tomoe added. She sighed and glanced over her shoulder, toward a heavy-looking wooden door. “But right now, the two of you must get dressed, and quickly. The friar’s spies will notice if we don’t attend Sunday mass.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Tried to get the historical details right, but I stretched facts in places :D

“We’re so pleased you could join us.” 

Tomoe’s velvet voice was as calm as ever, as if three years hadn’t passed since she and Kenshin had disappeared, as if Kaoru and Enishi hadn’t just blacked out in the middle of the 405 and come to in this cobweb filled, high-ceilinged, stone-walled vault. “I look forward to explaining everything,” Tomoe added. She sighed and glanced over her shoulder, toward a heavy-looking wooden door. “But right now, the two of you must get dressed, and quickly. The friar’s spies will notice if we don’t attend Sunday mass.”

 _Spies? Sunday mass?_ Kaoru remembered how frequently Tomoe used to say nonsensical things regarding scientific research, but such statements had never extended to espionage or religion. And the fact that Tomoe was standing here, not dead, was even weirder. 

Kaoru cleared her throat and tried to speak. “Tomoe -- you’re -- I don’t -- we’re already dressed --”

“Not appropriately, I’m afraid.” This comment seemed especially odd, considering that Tomoe herself appeared to be clothed in some kind of costume. A very specific, familiar kind of costume --

“Please,” Tomoe pleaded, interrupting Kaoru’s thoughts. She turned to her brother. "Enishi --”

Apparently Tomoe calling Enishi's name snapped him out of his shocked paralysis. “You're alive!” he croaked, and he let go of Kaoru’s hand, which he had been clutching since the car had crashed into whatever this place was. As he ripped at his seat belt buckle, shards of safety glass skittered across his lap and into the footwell.

Kaoru rubbed at the fingernail marks on her skin while Enishi scrambled from the vehicle to get to his sister. Meanwhile, Kenshin shuffled over to the driver’s side door and pried it open. 

“What’s going on, Kenshin?” Kaoru asked, her words fading as she found herself suddenly, unexpectedly lost in her longtime mentor’s soft gaze. She hadn’t felt _that way_ about him for a while, not really, but those violet eyes of his . . .

“It’s a long story.” Kenshin beamed down at Kaoru, proffered his hand, and pulled her from the wreckage. Kissing her cheek, he said, “It’s a joy to see you. And Enishi as well.”

Kaoru pressed her nose into Kenshin’s long, auburn-tinged ponytail and got a whiff of old books and sweat. Rather a lot of sweat. “We missed you,” Kaoru replied in a small voice. She glanced over Kenshin’s shoulder toward Enishi, who was squishing Tomoe against his chest and cough-crying into his sibling’s hair. 

“I understand you must both be terribly confused. We’ll update you during the homily,” Kenshin said as he released Kaoru. “Now, as Tomoe requested, would you please wear these?” He stuffed a pile of fabric into Kaoru’s arms.

It was too much to process. Kaoru held the bundle and stared at Enishi and his sister. 

“Enishi,” Tomoe repeated, still quiet but more firmly this time. She extracted herself from her brother’s embrace and held up a bundle similar to Kaoru’s. “Please listen to Kenshin. He can help you with the jerkin.” 

“What’s a jerkin?” Enishi sniffled, ignoring Tomoe’s entreaty and wiping his nose with the back of his forearm. For the first time since arriving in this dim room, he looked to Kaoru for guidance.

Kaoru blinked the last of the wildfire ash from her eyes and took a closer look at Kenshin and Tomoe. Oh. She glanced upward at the bubbled glass that had been set into arched window frames, then peered further around the room. 

The air hung with dust, and empty iron brackets protruded from the greasy, smoke-slicked walls. Into a shallow recess, someone had shoved an enormous table piled high with rough, loose papers, smudged ceramic bottles, and a few big, ratty feathers. Perhaps that same person had strewn the reeds and wood shavings across the stone floor. 

It’s not possible, Kaoru thought, even as she remembered incomprehensible phrases like “Elga’s paradox solution (???)” and “multiverse overconstraint” scrawled in Tomoe’s handwriting between calculations on the blackboard in the basement of the Pasadena bungalow she and Kenshin had shared, even as the sights and smells and scents settled into Kaoru’s mind as familiar from her years of historical scholarship, even as Kaoru shook out the clothes that Kenshin had handed her. 

Kaoru swallowed dryly.

"Well?" Enishi said. "Anybody going to answer me?"

Blinking again, Kaoru returned her gaze to her former professor and parted her lips. “A jerkin is what Kenshin is wearing -- it’s the leather vest type thing. And --” she squinted. “He’s also wearing a doublet, and upper and nether hose, which would be accurate. As for Tomoe --” she swallowed again as both nausea and excitement washed over her. “Your sister is wearing a simple shift gown with a corset and tied-on sleeves. She probably has a matching hat. All garments that are permitted to the middle class, according to the sumptuary laws.” 

“If you think I know what ‘sumptuary’ means when I just asked you about ‘jerkin’, think again,” Enishi replied testily. “What’s going on? Where the hell are we?”

Kaoru stared at her athletic sneakers. “Either we landed in Casa de Fruta on Renaissance Faire weekend, or we’ve been blown into fifteenth century Florence. Italy.” 

Enishi pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose and turned his head very slowly toward his sister. “Time travel, Tomoe? Seriously?”

Tomoe nodded slightly. “Give me the chance to explain at church.”

Enishi sighed, sounding exhausted. “Okay. Whatever.” He laughed mirthlessly, then pulled his tee shirt off to reveal a washboard abdomen and sculpted shoulders. “Hand me the clothes. I guess we have services to attend.”

*_*_*_*_*_*

Kaoru watched Enishi as his eyes skated across the solid marble altar, along the soaring stained glass window panels, up to the looming, realistically and violently rendered crucifix. “Jesus.”

“Yeah, that’s Him,” Kaoru muttered. She sneezed as a red-faced monk elbowed past waving a smoking, incense-filled thurible. 

She glanced back at Enishi. With his face in shadow and his eyes reflecting the candlelight under the hood of the rough-woven cloak he wore, he reminded Kaoru of the Emperor from Star Wars. A youthful, jacked, near-sighted Emperor.

Enishi coughed and rubbed his eyes with his fist, probably because Tomoe had insisted that he remove his glasses and tuck them into the sack at his belt that served as a pocket. “Why does it smell like a barn in here?” he grumbled. 

“It’s the animal fat used to make the candles,” Kaoru explained as she scratched at the stained cloth bodice that Kenshin had given her. She pulled her scarf up over her nose and mouth. “Beeswax smells a lot better, but it’s very expensive in this era and is only used for special events, like holidays and saints’ feasts. Expense also explains why there aren't any benches for us to sit, like in a modern day church, and why only the really rich, old people are seated on chairs that their servants brought in for them.” 

Enishi sneered and turned away, but his expression softened as he looked toward his sister, who knelt next to Kenshin in a nearby side chapel dedicated to the Virgin Mary. Tomoe clutched a string of wooden beads to her breast and moved her lips as the priest and his entourage made his way to the chancel. “What’re Tomoe and Kenshin doing?”

“Praying the rosary, looks like,” Kaoru answered. 

Looking around the church, Kaoru observed that Tomoe and Kenshin were some of the only people doing anything remotely related to mass. Most of the men and women were clustered together, talking and paying no attention to the priest or his attendants up in the sanctuary area. Kaoru couldn’t help but stare at them, doing her best to compare this reality to her studies.

She knew, of course, that cosmopolitan cities like Florence drew traders, immigrants, and pilgrims from throughout Europe, North Africa, the Middle East, and from even further away, and since Sunday Mass was one of the biggest weekly events for visitors, she shouldn’t have been so surprised that people from everywhere seemed to have shown up here. The international crowd also probably explained why no one was staring at the four Asian Americans hanging around the church nave.

As a single falsetto chorister sang a lengthy hymn, Kaoru strained to listen to the conversations surrounding her. Amongst the Italian speakers, she caught gossip about an aristocrat’s latest artistic patronage, speculation about a sculptor's illegitimate children, and complaints about the rising price of La Spezian octopus. Kaoru’s graduate courses in Florentine Italian had never been as useful in her own time period as they were here. 

“This is bullshit,” Enishi murmured as he and Kaoru watched a group of bearded Black men wearing flowing coastal traders’ garb drop coins into a bejeweled box under the statue of some saint. 

“Which part?” Kaoru asked, wondering what blessing the men were seeking.

“Tomoe acting like I should sit tight and act normal after I just found out that she’s alive. But that doesn’t seem to have registered to you,” he added bitterly. “I guess it’s easier since you can understand what people are saying. If we’d been dropped in the middle of China, you’d all be relying on me to translate. But you and Kenshin are too busy soaking up all this living Italian history stuff.”

Enishi had a point, of course -- it _was_ incredibly cool to witness the Italian Renaissance in person -- but it was still all but impossible to concentrate under the circumstances. Kaoru shifted closer to him in order to avoid being trampled by a group of child beggars weaving their way through the throng. “I’m just trying to avoid catching attention,” Kaoru said, blowing her modern-cut bangs out of her face. “Sorry we didn’t get dropped in Shanghai for your sake,” she said, not feeling at all sorry. “You know, Tomoe has done a lot of weird stuff, but this ranks the highest by far.” As soon as Kaoru said the words, she wished she hadn’t. 

“You think _Tomoe_ is at fault here?” Enishi hissed, his gaze sharp as a dagger. 

Before Kaoru could reply, the full choir burst into its alleluias.

“It’s Kenshin who studied this time period!” Enishi growled, his eyes getting wild as the vocalists crescendoed. “He’s behind whatever this is! My sister --”

“Your sister wants to save the world as you know it,” Kenshin interrupted. He smiled pleasantly, but a deep crease had formed between his eyebrows. “For now, that includes this playact of religious devotion, to keep others from tearing down our work.” He jerked his chin back toward Tomoe, who still knelt in the chapel, mouthing words and rolling the prayer beads between her fingertips. He took Kaoru’s elbow in his palm and glanced up at Enishi. “Tomoe will meet us in the back when she finishes. Let’s go.”

Kenshin guided Kaoru and Enishi through the crowd, past a group of blond and red-headed merchants, through a pack of sunburned day laborers, and beyond a coiffed, pock-scarred woman and her train of attendants. 

The narthex, or space at the rear of the cathedral between the tower stairwells, was empty but for a few late arrivals scooting through the back doors to join the rest of the parishioners. Kaoru gratefully gulped the outdoor air wafting in.

As the singers fell silent and the priest began his sermon, Tomoe joined the three of them, her long dark gown fluttering at her feet and making her appear as though she floated across the floor mosaics. “Enishi. Kaoru. I am grateful for your patience. Now there should be sufficient time for me to explain things. Father Giovanni is, if you’ll forgive my saying so, long-winded.” She took her brother’s large hand in her slim one and squeezed. The corners of her mouth turned upward slightly, which was about as much of a smile as Kaoru had ever seen on the face of the sedate scientist. 

Enishi rubbed at his eyes again with the heel of his free hand, probably wiping away fresh tears. “So. Tell us,” he said, his voice wavering, “What on earth inspired you to travel from twenty-first century California to Italy, five hundred years in the past?”

Tomoe looked up at the vaulted ceiling, which had been painted with gilded angels. Her dark eyes glistened. “You already know that I worked for many years as a climate scientist, and during that time I received some professional recognition.” 

This was an understatement. When Kaoru and Enishi had cleaned out Tomoe’s and Kenshin’s basement, they had discovered floor-to-ceiling bookcases stuffed with Tomoe’s publications, boxes full of prestigious awards, and stacks of letters from universities, governmental agencies, non-profit organizations, and even mining companies begging her to provide expertise.

Tomoe cleared her throat and continued. “Over and over, no matter how I approached the data, my research brought me to the same conclusion: amongst mainstream scientists, even the most dire climate predictions are far too optimistic.

“Just before Kenshin and I arrived here in Renaissance Italy, most climatologists were arguing that humans have another ten to twenty years or so to apply our ingenuity to halting the warming trend before it becomes irreversible --” here Enishi nodded vigorously in agreement, as that was a talking point that Kaoru heard him use often when soliciting funds from donors -- “But my modeling has shown incontrovertibly that the early twenty-first century is far too late for any such changes, and that it has been too late for decades. No matter what anyone tries during our present day, most people -- perhaps seventy to ninety percent of Earth’s population -- will die from starvation, or flooding, or violent conflicts over scarce resources, or even disease. It became clear to me that our modern civilization -- in fact, humanity as we know it -- will cease to exist in just thirty to forty years. Weather events will grow so dramatic, so quickly, that all aspects of life on earth will destabilize faster than anyone can respond. 

“I had hoped that world leaders would listen when I tried to warn them, that they would take me seriously because of my credentials. But I was wrong. No one wanted to hear what I had to say. They tried to discredit me instead. I don’t blame them, though. Such a future is too terrible to imagine.” She released Enishi’s hand and laced her fingers together. “In fact, I understand if you two don’t believe me.”

Kaoru met Enishi’s eyes. She could practically see his memories of the past six months reflected back at her -- the pandemic shutdown, the political power struggles, the choking wildfire smoke. “We believe you,” Kaoru said quickly. “But we still don’t understand the time travel.”

Tomoe blinked, clearly surprised by the comment. “Oh, that? It wasn’t as difficult to figure out as you might imagine. I simply spent a few months refamiliarizing myself with quantum physics and then modified some equipment I borrowed from the university --”

"I think Kaoru and Enishi want to know why, not how," Kenshin interjected kindly.

"Ah," Tomoe said. "In that regard, Kenshin helped me greatly. He reviewed the history of combustion engines --”

Enishi gasped. “Of course! The combustion engine is the predecessor to the technology that created the carbon emissions that have induced planetary warming!” He grinned for a moment, but then his face fell. “I’m no historian, but even I know that the earliest combustion engines won’t be invented for hundreds of years.”

Kaoru looked at Kenshin. He was smiling at her encouragingly, as if he were mentally willing her to put together the hints that Tomoe had given. It was as if she could feel gears sliding into place as she said, “Barsanti-Matteuchi,” in a near-whisper.

Enishi whipped his head up. “Uh, what?”

Kenshin’s smile widened. It felt a little bit like being back in one of his graduate seminars.

Kaoru’s skin tingled. “Father Eugenio Barsanti will meet Felipe Matteuchi at a Florentine institute sometime in the 1840s, about two-hundred and fifty years from now. Together, they will invent the Barsanti-Matteuchi engine, which forms the basis for nearly all the fossil fuel tech used throughout the twentieth century and into the beginning of the twenty-first.” She gazed back at Kenshin, shocking herself with the words coming from her mouth. “You’re trying to stop the Industrial Revolution before it starts?”

“Not stop it. Redirect it.” Kenshin placed his palm on his wife’s shoulder, and Kaoru did her best to ignore the old habitual sinking of her heart. “Under the protection of some wealthy, powerful patrons, we’ve been helping inventors and academics here in Florence lay the foundations to create technological processes that won’t rely on fossil fuels. By the time Barsanti is born, we hope that conventional combustion engines will be considered dirty, inefficient, and expensive in comparison to the technology that should be flourishing then.”

“A steampunk future,” Kaoru couldn’t help commenting.

Kenshin nodded. “Undeniably, steam power will play a role, but Tomoe has planted many seeds of inspiration amongst the early scientists here. I’m pleased to report that so far, she’s been largely successful in her efforts.” 

Kaoru’s tongue felt thick in her mouth. She looked at Enishi, who was staring down at the floor with his jaw set tight.

“You don’t seem as excited as we had hoped you would be,” Tomoe said.

“Why didn’t you just tell us your plans before you left?” Enishi cleared his throat to cover the crackle in his voice. “We thought you died. We went through your things.”

Tomoe pressed her palm to her brother’s face. “I’m sorry for concealing the truth from you. I thought we’d be finished quickly, and that by the time we got back to Los Angeles, the two of you would already be living in a fresh new reality with clean air and renewable energy sources.”

“Unfortunately, there’s been a complication,” Kenshin said, grimacing. “That’s why we had to bring you here.” 

At that moment, someone jingled a bell in the transept. “It’s time to receive the Eucharist,” Tomoe said. “Kenshin and I must be seen in the communion line. Stay here. We’ll be right back, and then we’ll take you to our chambers at the palazzo and finish our discussion.” She took Kenshin’s hand and led him away.

Kaoru exhaled hard, but the knot in her stomach wouldn’t loosen. “Well,” she said in Enishi’s direction. “What do you think about all that?”

Enishi grimaced. “I have my sister back. That’s all that matters.”

*_*_*_*_*_*

“So you’re living with the Medicis, the richest, most connected family in Florence. Lucky break,” Kaoru said around a mouthful of grapes that Kenshin had purchased for her from a street vendor at the Ponte Vecchio. She eyed Enishi and Tomoe walking a few steps ahead, sharing a hunk of cheese, and sparing not a single glance for the serpent-green Arno River as they crossed the bridge. They were absorbed in their impossible-for-outsiders-to-understand sibling shorthand. 

“It’s been fascinating. After we’re all back in California, I’ll tell you the story of how I convinced Lorenzo the Magnificent to help us,” Kenshin said. He rolled his slim shoulders and cracked his neck. His eyes lit up as the group walked through a ray of sunlight slicing between the crowded-together buildings. “I’m sorry to hear that my disappearance caused you to abandon your previous studies, but I’m honored that you picked up where I left off with regard to Renaissance scholarship. And the fact that you're fluent in period-specific Italian will help us immeasurably. Tomoe has tried so hard to learn the language, but her immense brainpower apparently only extends to the bounds of science. As a result, I frequently serve as a translator, especially since almost no one here speaks English, much less modern West Coast American English, which of course doesn’t even exist yet.”

Kaoru grunted, and she spit out a bunch of seeds. She watched as Enishi tried to pick subtly at the hosiery that had bunched up between his muscular butt cheeks, and she snickered. He turned around and shot her another one of those dagger glares.

“We’re here,” Tomoe announced, before ducking into an alley that was even narrower than the cobbled streets. Enishi, Kenshin, and Kaoru followed.

The alley dead-ended into a plain door set into a windowless wall that stretched several stories high. But before Tomoe reached the door, it swung open. A tall guard with thick black hair and alabaster skin stood blocking a darkened interior space. Unlike the people in the church who hadn’t seemed to care much for anything but their own business, he stared baldly at Kaoru and Enishi.

Tomoe slipped a small sack into the guard’s fist.

“Salted almonds,” Kenshin said in Italian. “Tomoe knows that your children favor them, Antonio.”

Antonio smiled briefly at Tomoe before his face fell back into a scowl. “The boss is in a dark mood tonight. The Piagnoni are making noise again, and his mother won’t stop complaining about his mistress, and his gout is acting up, so of course he’s trying to put on a show of invincibility and insisting on a last minute feast. It’s going to be a disaster. He expects you to be there.” Antonio eyeballed Enishi again. 

Enishi glared back; Kaoru was sure that he couldn't understand Antonio’s words, but he clearly didn't like the guard’s assessment of him. 

Antonio rested his hand on the pommel of his sword and looked back at Kenshin. “The last thing you need is for Master Lorenzo to see that you’ve brought some unfamiliar, strapping warrior into the palace.” 

“What should we do?” Kaoru asked in Italian, forgetting herself.

"Antonio, this is Kaoru," Kenshin said. "My brother in law's wife."

Kaoru blinked and swallowed, doing her best to keep her expression neutral. Enishi's _wife?_

The guard looked her up and down. “That's the strangest accent I've ever heard, and I've been speaking to Kenshin for years. But Kenshin told me that you and your husband have been living in Constantinople for most of your life, so I'm just glad that you speak something other than Greek.” He stepped aside and gestured for them to come in. “Anyway. Kenshin, take these two straight to your chambers, and avoid the courtyard on your way there. I’ll send them a scullery maid with supper and a wash basin.”

Kenshin nodded his thanks, summarized the guard’s directions in English for Tomoe and Enishi's benefit, then led the group along a low-ceilinged hallway and up a claustrophobia-inducing staircase.

“The guard was expecting us?” Kaoru whispered to Kenshin, even though she wanted to ask why the man thought she was married to Enishi.

“Sort of.” Kenshin rubbed the back of his neck. “I apologize for the strange 'backstory' that I told Antonio before you arrived, but I wanted to ensure that you and Enishi would be accepted without too many questions. And I hoped that it wouldn’t be too much of a stretch." He stopped in front of another plain wooden door that he leaned against with his shoulder. "Unfortunately, Tomoe and I should go straight to the feast so we aren't late. We won't have time to talk until after we return late tonight. But surely you need some time to rest anyway." He walked in and held open the door.

Kaoru walked inside and noted a tiny, cold fireplace in the corner and two narrow arched windows set with plain, hazy glass. Against the wall was a low bed with a thin looking mattress and a wooden trunk in which Kenshin and Tomoe probably kept most of their belongings. A maroon cloth was strung up on one side of the room to create a partition, though it only somewhat concealed what appeared to be a pallet of straw covered by a few faded blankets. The space was cramped, dark and stuffy, but it was probably a pretty standard palace dwelling for people who were, socially speaking, higher up than servants and tradesmen but lower down than wealthy merchants, bankers and aristocrats. 

Suddenly, Enishi’s quarantine condo seemed much more appealing than before.

Tomoe knocked a shard of flint against the curved mantle to light a candle stub. "When Kenshin and I first arrived, we shared quarters with a self-professed alchemist and his three assistants. We're fortunate to have a room to ourselves now. Oh, please leave your shoes by the door,” she added. Her brows furrowed as Kaoru removed her Nikes, now filthy from the streets. “I’ll try to find you a pair of boots like the ones I acquired for Enishi, and then we’ll put those sneakers in the Prius with your other synthetic clothes.”

“Don’t try to light a fire,” Kenshin cautioned, noticing Kaoru’s eyes lingering on the candle. “It’s easy to do it incorrectly and fill the entire room with smoke, which upsets the chambermaids who take care of this wing of the palace.”

“Don’t worry,” Kaoru said. “I’m not in a hurry to smell smoke again any time soon.” She cracked a grin at Enishi, who didn’t reply as he hung his cloak on a wall hook.

Kenshin, on the other hand, smiled politely. “If you use the chamber pot, place it outside the room. A child empties it a couple of times per day.”

Enishi whipped around at Kenshin’s statement. “My sister has to use a _chamber pot_?”

Kenshin started to speak, but Tomoe stepped in front of him and patted her brother’s chest. “I appreciate your concern, Enishi, but know that I prefer these temporary crude conditions to the worldwide environmental collapse that you’d face if Kenshin and I weren’t here to stop it. Which reminds me, here’s the drinking water.” She pointed to a squat round table next to the bed, which held a covered wooden bucket and a ladle. “It will taste strange to you at first, but that’s because we have to add wine to kill the biological contaminants. I should also warn you that your stomach may be unsettled for a few days while it adjusts to this place.”

From beyond the hallway came the sound of a long note played on what sounded like a brass horn.

“Thanks, Tomoe, Kenshin,” Kaoru mumbled, feeling the last of the adrenaline drain from her limbs. “Some rest sounds good.” She walked over to the pallet and slumped onto the thick fabric. It smelled like sage, just like Kenshin’s hair; perhaps the mattresses were stuffed with the herb.

Kenshin gestured for Tomoe to follow him out of the open doorway.

“What about me?” Enishi asked, looking between the bed and the pallet. “You and Tomoe use the bed, right? If Kaoru has the pallet, where am I supposed to sleep?”

Tomoe and Kenshin looked at one another. Tomoe cleared her throat. “Don’t you and Kaoru usually --” she glanced back at Enishi before breaking off and trying again. “You told me you and Kaoru have been living in your condo -- Kenshin and I had supposed that by now, after all this time, the two of you --”

Kaoru’s face flushed with heat. She began stammering something unintelligible while Enishi growled out a flat, “We’re not together.” 

“I apologize,” Kenshin said, his eyes darting to his wife. “Perhaps I can share the pallet with you, and Tomoe and Kaoru can --”

“Nevermind. It’s fine,” Enishi grunted, his voice dripping with scorn. In two strides, he crossed the room and flopped his bulk down beside Kaoru. “We’ve got bigger things to worry about than sleeping arrangements. Hurry up and go to your feast.” He crossed his arms over his chest and shut his eyes tight.

Kenshin nodded once more to Kaoru, then turned around and exited the room.

“Enishi. I am glad you’re safe,” Tomoe said softly; then, without awaiting a response from her brother, she followed Kenshin and closed the door.

Kaoru exhaled. She lay on her back, not moving, sweating, desperately to untie the heavy skirts and release the stays on her corset. But then she’d be right next to Enishi, wearing just a loose shift and no bra, and that would be weird. Would that be weird? Maybe not, considering the kind of day they had both had. Instead of making a decision about her attire, she watched the candlelight flicker on the ceiling as the last of the afternoon light faded from the windows.

“What the fuck just happened,” Enishi said finally, after what might have been a minute or a hundred years.

Kaoru snorted, but she suppressed the laughter. If she got started, she might not be able to stop. 

Enishi shifted his weight, and the lumpy straw rustled against the cloth. He inhaled loudly, held the breath for much longer than Kaoru ever could have, and exhaled a great puff of warm breath against the side of her face. “Did you ever sleep with Kenshin?” he asked.

Kaoru’s younger self would have whacked Enishi’s bicep and stormed out of the room. Nowadays she typically tried to reframe his especially idiotic notions with brutal logic. “We’re stuck in a room on a smelly straw mattress because your climate warrior sister time-travelled us to Pitti Palace. She _still_ hasn’t explained why she needed us here to help her. But what you most want to know is ‘did I ever sleep with Kenshin’?”

He rubbed his nose with his knuckles and rolled his eyes. “It’s not a ridiculous question.”

Kaoru scratched at her scalp. If she was lucky, the itchiness wasn’t lice jumping up from the straw. Tonight, she was too tired to fight. “No,” she said simply, truthfully. “Kenshin was already engaged to Tomoe when he became my advisor.”

“That doesn’t mean you couldn’t have --”

“Now you’re really being a dick,” Kaoru said, which shut Enishi up. She fixed her eyes on a crack in the ceiling plaster as she continued, “Maybe when I first started working with Kenshin, before I met Tomoe, if he had ever --” She stopped and licked her chapped lips. “But it was so clear that he was completely devoted to her. Eventually that helped me get over whatever -- romantic stuff -- I felt for him. And now I just care about them both. Is that the answer you want?”

“Good enough.” The pallet dipped as Enishi shifted his weight again. “But you have to admit, the way you are with him -- it can get kind of weird.”

 _Oh yeah, compared to you with Tomoe,_ Kaoru thought but didn’t say. _Totally normal brother-sister relationship you got there._ “It’s a good thing I learned how to speak Italian before we ended up here, isn’t it?” she muttered, making a decision about her corset. She yanked at the leather laces and audibly sighed with relief as the restrictive garment loosened around her ribcage. If Enishi deserved answers about her years of pining after Kenshin, she deserved full diaphragm breaths.

Enishi rolled onto his back and stretched his long arms over his head, then placed his hands on his stomach and laced his fingers together. “I’m glad you and Kenshin weren’t involved.”

“Uh huh,” Kaoru yawned. “I know you’re not Kenshin’s biggest fan, but you’d never want him to do something that would hurt Tomoe.”

“No, I’m just --” Enishi coughed. “You know. Glad. In general.”

“Oh,” Kaoru said, staring harder at the crack on the ceiling.

The candle sputtered, plunging them both in darkness.

*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*

[to be continued]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are some inaccuracies that I am aware of because I had to stretch history to work with the plot, and surely there are some inaccuracies because of my imperfect research. Alas!
> 
> Thank you for reading!


End file.
